"I have no way, and therefore want no eyes; I stumbled when I saw: full oft 'tis seen, Our means secure us, and our mere defects Prove our commodities."

"Go, thrust him out at gates, and let him smell His way to Dover."

"Child Rowland to the dark tower came, His word was still, —Fie, foh, and fum, I smell the blood of a British man."

"Poor naked wretches, wheresoe'er you are, That bide the pelting of this pitiless storm, How shall your houseless heads and unfed sides, Your loop'd and window'd raggedness, defend you From seasons such as these? O! I have ta'en Too little care of this! Take physic, pomp; Expose thyself to feel what wretches feel, That thou mayst shake the superflux to them, And show the heavens more just."

"Let him be Caesar:"

"'Tis not a year or two shows us a man: They are all but stomachs, and we all but food; They eat us hungerly, and when they are full, They belch us."

"Who would not make her husband a cuckold to make him a monarch?"

"Heaven me such uses send, Not to pick bad from bad, but by bad mend."

"[He kisses her] O balmy breath, that dost almost persuade Justice to break her sword. One more, one more! Be thus when thou art dead, and I will kill thee, And love thee after. One more, and that's the last! So sweet was ne'er so fatal. I must weep, But they are cruel tears. This sorrow's heavenly; It strikes where it doth love. She wakes."

"What noise is this? Not dead — not yet quite dead? I that am cruel am yet merciful; I would not have the linger in thy pain So, so."

"I hold my peace, sir? no; No, I will speak as liberal as the north; Let heaven and men and devils, let them all, All, all, cry shame against me, yet I'll speak."

"Demand me nothing: what you know, you know: From this time forth I never will speak word."

"Shakespeare and Verdi whisper the answer: look for the Iagos. They do not wield the knife. They do not pull the trigger. But they create the mental machinery by which violence feels righteous."

"Nothing can come of nothing: speak again."

"Mend your speech a little, Lest you may mar your fortunes."

"Lear: So young, and so untender? Cordelia: So young, my lord, and true. Lear: Let it be so; — thy truth, then, be thy dower."

"Kill thy physician, and the fee bestow Upon the foul disease."

"Time shall unfold what plighted cunning hides: Who cover faults, at last shame them derides."

"Who, in the lusty stealth of nature, take More composition and fierce quality Than doth, within a dull, stale, tired bed, Go to the creating a whole tribe of fops Got 'tween asleep and wake?"

"Now, gods, stand up for bastards!"

"The hedge sparrow fed the cuckoo so long, That it had it head bit off by it young."

"Ingratitude, thou marble-hearted fiend, More hideous, when thou show'st thee in a child Than the sea-monster!"

"Striving to better, oft we mar what's well."

"Oswald: Why dost thou use me thus? I know thee not. Kent: Fellow, I know thee. Oswald: What dost thou know me for? Kent: A knave; a rascal; an eater of broken meats; a base, proud, shallow, beggarly, three-suited, hundred-pound, filthy, worsted-stocking knave; a lily-livered, action-taking whoreson, glass-gazing, superserviceable, finical rogue; one-trunk-inheriting slave; one that wouldst be a bawd, in way of good service, and art nothing but the composition of a knave, beggar, coward, pander, and the son and heir of a mongrel bitch: one whom I will beat into clamorous whining, if thou deniest the least syllable of thy addition."

"Fortune, good-night: smile once more; turn thy wheel!"

"Lay her i' the earth: And from her fair and unpolluted flesh May violets spring!"

"Alas! poor Yorick. I knew him, Horatio; a fellow of infinite jest, of most excellent fancy; he hath borne me on his back a thousand times; and now, how abhorred in my imagination it is! my gorge rises at it. Here hung those lips that I have kissed I know not how oft. Where be your gibes now? your gambols? your songs? your flashes of merriment, that were wont to set the table on a roar? Not one now, to mock your own grinning? quite chap-fallen? Now get you to my lady's chamber, and tell her, let her paint an inch thick, to this favour she must come; make her laugh at that."

"The world affords no law to make thee rich; Then be not poor, but break it, and take this."

"Too much of water hast thou, poor Ophelia, And therefore I forbid my tears."

"There is a willow grows aslant a brook, That shows his hoar leaves in the glassy stream; There with fantastic garlands did she come Of crow-flowers, nettles, daisies, and long purples That liberal shepherds give a grosser name, But our cold maids do dead men's fingers call them: There, on the pendent boughs her coronet weeds Clambering to hang, an envious sliver broke; When down her weedy trophies and herself Fell in the weeping brook. Her clothes spread wide; And, mermaid-like, awhile they bore her up: Which time she chanted snatches of old tunes; As one incapable of her own distress, Or like a creature native and indued Unto that element: but long it could not be Till that her garments, heavy with their drink, Pull'd the poor wretch from her melodious lay To muddy death."

"Let me have A dram of poison; such soon-speeding gear As will disperse itself through all the veins, That the life-weary taker may fall dead, And that the trunk may be discharged of breath As violently as hasty powder fired Doth hurry from the fatal cannon's womb."

"Why should I play the Roman fool, and die On mine own sword?"

"I'm lost in it, my lord. But let him come; It warms the very sickness in my heart, That I shall live and tell him to his teeth, 'Thus diest thou.'"

"When sorrows come, they come not single spies, But in battalions."

"Being holiday, the beggar's shop is shut."

"Good-night, ladies; good-night, sweet ladies; good-night, good-night."

"We know what we are, but know not what we may be."

"I do remember an apothecary, And hereabouts a' dwells, which late I noted In tatter'd weeds, with overwhelming brows, Culling of simples; meagre were his looks; Sharp misery had worn him to the bones: And in his needy shop a tortoise hung, An alligator stuff'd and other skins Of ill-shaped fishes; and about his shelves A beggarly account of empty boxes, Green earthen pots, bladders and musty seeds, Remnants of packthread and old cakes of roses, Were thinly scatter'd, to make up a show. Noting this penury, to myself I said, An if a man did need a poison now, Whose sale is present death in Mantua, Here lives a caitiff wretch would sell it him."

"They have tied me to a stake; I cannot fly, But, bear-like, I must fight the course"

"Macduff: Turn, hell-hound, turn! Macbeth:Of all men else I have avoided thee. But get thee back. My soul is too much charged With blood of thine already. Macduff: I have no words. My voice is in my sword. Thou bloodier villain Than terms can give thee out!"

"O! from this time forth, My thoughts be bloody, or be nothing worth!"

"How all occasions do inform against me, And spur my dull revenge! What is a man, If his chief good and market of his time Be but to sleep and feed? A beast, no more. Sure he that made us with such large discourse, Looking before and after, gave us not That capability and godlike reason To fust in us unused. Now whether it be Bestial oblivion, or some craven scruple Of thinking too precisely on th' event - A thought which, quartered, hath but part wisdom And ever three parts coward - I do not know Why yet I live to say "This thing's to do," Sith I have cause, and will, and strength, and means To do't."

"O mischief, thou art swift To enter in the thoughts of desperate men!"

"Claudius: Where is Polonius? Hamlet: In heaven; send thither to see. If your messenger find him not there, seek him i' the other place yourself. But, indeed, if you find him not within this month, you shall nose him as you go up the stairs into the lobby."

"Hamlet: A man may fish with the worm that hath eat of a king, and eat of the fish that hath fed of that worm. Claudius: What dost thou mean by this? Hamlet: Nothing but to show you how a king may go a progress through the guts of a beggar."

"And her immortal part with angels lives."

"I pull in resolution, and begin To doubt the equivocation of the fiend That lies like truth: 'Fear not, till Birnam wood Do come to Dunsinane:' and now a wood Comes toward Dunsinane. Arm, arm, and out! If this which he avouches does appear, There is nor flying hence nor tarrying here. I gin to be aweary of the sun, And wish the estate o' the world were now undone. Ring the alarum-bell! Blow, wind! come, wrack! At least we'll die with harness on our back."

"Rosencrantz: I understand you not, my lord. Hamlet: I am glad of it: a knavish speech sleeps in a foolish ear. Rosencrantz: My lord, you must tell us where the body is, and go with us to the king. Hamlet: The body is with the king, but the king is not with the body. The king is a thing — Guildenstern: A thing, my lord? Hamlet: Of nothing."

"So, haply, slander — Whose whisper o'er the world's diameter, As level as the cannon to his blank, Transports his poisoned shot — may miss our name And hit the woundless air. — O, come away! My soul is full of discord and dismay."

"If I may trust the flattering truth of sleep, My dreams presage some joyful news at hand: My bosom's lord sits lightly in his throne, And all this day an unaccustom'd spirit Lifts me above the ground with cheerful thoughts."